


put your head on my shoulder

by sequeltolife



Category: Gintama
Genre: Drabble, I'm so sorry, M/M, otp prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 11:15:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1548593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequeltolife/pseuds/sequeltolife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gintoki and Hijikata get drunk together, and then Gintoki decides to put on some music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	put your head on my shoulder

**Author's Note:**

> this is based off of an otp prompt that i don't have the link for anymore (and i can't seem to find it OTL), but it was something among the lines of:  
> "image your otp slowdancing together while one of them sings in the other's ear."  
> anyways, i did it. while you read, try to listen to paul anka's "put your head on my shoulder" (mainly because the effect is cuter, but also because the lyrics to that song are in here). :)

The first time Hijikata got drunk with Gintoki, he silently promised himself he would never do it again. Partly because when his boyfriend got completely hammered, he became oddly clingy. But it was mostly because when  _he_  was drunk, he didn't mind.

On this particular cold winter evening, Gintoki's kids were having a triple sleepover at Glasses' dojo with him, his sister and the Amanto girl. They had the space and the monster of a girl was happy to get out of the house and spend time with the monster of a woman. Gintoki (who was a little sad about being left out, even though he didn't say it) had seen this as a perfect opportunity to invite Hijikata over and get each other smashed.

Gintoki, stripped of his belts and yukata, was sitting on the floor leaning against the couch. His shirt was half unzipped, showing his pale skin, marked by little scars that Hijikata could see from the angle. He was sitting on the opposite couch, uniform jacket, cravat and vest off, with an unlit cigarette between his lips. Currently, Gintoki was keeping his distance, but he kept looking at Hijikata when he thought he wasn't looking and Hijikata knew it wasn't long before he got up. Hijikata wasn't sure if he should feel grateful or disappointed.

He, himself, wasn't completely drunk. He was still thinking coherently, his inhibitions still up, but Gintoki was another story. Hijikata could tell by how his body was slouching, his normal graceful air blown away by stronger, apathetic winds. Depressed wasn't a word Hijikata would ever use to describe the man, but he had more demons with sharper teeth than most, so it didn't bother him when Gintoki just wanted to forget everything every once in a while. He wouldn't remember the sad words he whispered into Hijikata's ear the night before, nor would he remember the loving ones. He never said either while sober, but it didn't matter to Hijikata. Gintoki meant them, whether he knew he was saying them aloud or not.

Tonight, though, he didn't seem as sad. He seemed almost nonchalant, which wasn't always the case when he was drinking.

Hijikata was broken out of his thoughts when Gintoki stood up slowly and walked over to the cheap CD player besides the TV.

"What're you doin'?" Hijikata asked softly, but loud enough for him to hear.

"Puttin' on some music," he slurred back. Hijikata watched as he pulled out a CD and put it into the CD player. It didn't work at first; rejecting the CD the first few times, before finally accepting it and playing it.

And the song that came on was incredibly sappy. Gintoki turned around and started laughing at the constipated look that was probably on Hijikata's face. He didn't recognize the song or the lyrics, but the tune was lovey-dovey and it was enough to make anyone make weird faces. Gintoki hummed along, his timing a little off when he tried to sing and he just stood there, swaying slightly.

When the song was coming to an end, he walked up to Hijikata and stuck out his hand, palm up.

"What?"

"Dance with me."

Hijikata made another face, "No way."

"Yes."

"No."

Gintoki gave his outstretched hand a little shake and repeated, "Yes."

Hijikata sighed and put his cigarette down on the ashtray before putting his hand in Gintoki's, letting him pull him up off the couch. They stood in the empty area of the room, giving all the pointy edges and objects they could trip over a wide berth. The song faded out, and another slow one came on. Hijikata still didn't recognize it, but Gintoki seemed to; instantly beginning to hum along again.

He pulled Hijikata closer to him, keeping their hands clasped together and rested his other one on the bone of Hijikata's hip. Hijikata put his hand awkwardly on Gintoki's shoulder. Hijikata would never admit it, but he wasn't a very good dancer. If anyone asked, he would say he was exceptionally good, but no, he wouldn't dance with them. Maybe it was the alcohol that made him give in so easily, or maybe it was the way Gintoki had looked down at him; eyes filled with something he could only describe as affection.

Either way, Gintoki knew what he was doing. Hijikata hadn't expected him too, but he did. He put his lips close to Hijikata's ear, humming in his throat and slowly swaying. There wasn't much to it, really. They didn't move very far and it wasn't anything fancy, but it was almost adoring; the way Gintoki touched him like he was something fragile. As soon as the man started singing, Gintoki softly did too. It was quiet, and Hijikata was almost certain he wouldn't have been able to hear it if Gintoki's mouth had been anywhere else, instead of brushing against the shell of his ear.

_"Put your head on my shoulder, hold me in your arms, bay-be. Squeeze me oh-so tight, show me that you love me, toooooo."_

Hijikata could help smiling a little at Gintoki's drunken lyrics, and he barely even noticed himself relaxing and falling into place. And it wasn't awkward anymore to touch him; they were alone and there was nothing sexual about the touches. They were sweet, almost, so Hijikata moved his hand down Gintoki's arm, and reached around him to place his hand on his shoulder blades. They were slowly circling now, but the movement was so slow, Hijikata barely realized they were doing it.

 _"Put your lips next to mine, dear. Won't you kiss me once, bay-be? Just a kiss goodnight, maybe, you and I will fall in love."_ And Hijikata couldn't help thinking that, maybe, he already has.

Gintoki's hand was sliding up and down his back now, and there was little to no space between them and when had he closed his eyes?

_"People say that love's a game; a game you just can't win. If there's a way, I'll find it someday and then this fool will rush in."_

Hijikata grinned a little more against Gintoki's cheek and twisted his fingers in the back of his shirt. He wasn't thinking as much anymore. There was the music and then there was Gintoki, one hand in his, other resting in the dip of his back, and singing softly into his ear without a care in the world.

_"Put your head on my shoulder. Whisper in my ear, bay-be, words I want to hear, tell me. Tell me that you love me too."_

And in that moment, Hijikata was convinced that, yeah, Gintoki loved him. The words were spoken with such conviction that he couldn't doubt that they were for him. They weren't just lyrics anymore; they were secrets that Gintoki had sworn to keep, but was telling him anyway.

And while the man singing through the speakers continued on  _("Put your head on my shoulder, whisper in my ear, bay-be, words I want to hear, bay-be. Put your head on my shoulder."_ ), Gintoki stayed quiet while Hijikata whispered the words that he needed to hear into the shell of his ear. Simply, three letters. Normally, the words would have been hard to say. They would have climbed up his throat and tripped over his teeth, stuttering and dubious. But in the moment, with the alcohol and the warmth of Gintoki's body and the atmosphere, Hijikata's lips easily formed the words. They came out smooth, convincing, and true.

Gintoki was smiling, he knew. He didn't have to look.

And when he finally did rest his head on Gintoki's shoulder, with the song fading out and the next one fading in, Hijikata promised next time that they danced, sober or drunk, he would sing along.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! :)
> 
> and i do appreciate polite constructive criticism, as most writers do, so please don't be too mean to me ._.


End file.
